Cracks in the Dust

Out by the tracks where the wild weeds grow,

Under the neon light’s dim, painful glow,

The bottle runs dry, the pipe’s passed around,

Lost souls gather where no grace is found.

Cracks in the dust, they cut through the soul,

Life’s got a way of taking its toll,

Chasing the high ‘til it all falls apart,

Cracks in the dust, they shatter the heart.

Mama’s old Bible still sits on the shelf,

But it’s been years since I thought of myself,

I hear her prayers drift down dusty lanes,

Through the haze of the smoke and this gnawing pain.

Cracks in the dust, they cut through the soul,

Life’s got a way of taking its toll,

Chasing the high ‘til it all falls apart,

Cracks in the dust, they shatter the heart.

Some folks find God up there in the skies,

But me, I see Him in the tear-filled eyes,

Of the ones I’ve hurt, the bridges I’ve burned,

Ashes of lessons I’ve still never learned.

The dawn creeps in, a pale, hollow glow,

My hands shake bad, but it’s all that I know,

The gravel beneath feels colder each day,

But these cracks in the dust, they won’t give me away.